


If Each Day A Flower Climbs Up To Your Lips

by JeanieNitro



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gratuitious use of Author Formatting, Hanahaki Disease, I feel like it's not so much 'mutual pining' as 'multiple pining', M/M, Pining, Texting, Twitter, spontaneous airplane trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-20 00:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19366636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanieNitro/pseuds/JeanieNitro
Summary: Bitty was getting hot from dancing and needed a quick break, so he slipped on some shoes and headed out to the back porch. He only intended to stay out there for a few minutes, maybe seconds even, since it was December after all, but as he was standing there, he heard a strange hacking noise coming from around the side of the house. It was probably someone throwing up, because thiswasan Epikegster, but Bitty felt like he should probably check to see if whoever it was was okay, especially if they were one of the team or something. He rounded the corner of the Haus hesitantly, and instead of a teammate or another college student, he found . . . Kent Parson? Who was having some sort of coughing fit, and the ground around him was littered in rose petals.AKA Kent Parson has had Hanahaki Disease since the draft, and Bitty finds him coughing up flower petals after the Epikegster





	If Each Day A Flower Climbs Up To Your Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Regina_Writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Writes/gifts).



> Title is from Si tú me olvidas (If You Forget Me) by Pablo Neruda
> 
> Hopefully the formatting stuff doesn't get too annoying; I found some really cool stuff for tweets and text messages, but Twitter DMs are still plain since I couldn't find anything and didn't have time to try and mock something up.
> 
> Just wanted to say lots and lots of thank yous to [palateens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens), [Julie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain/pseuds/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain), and [bitty-smol](https://bitty-smol.tumblr.com/), without whom this fic would not exist.

After tossing his phone into his room and re-locking the door, Bitty stumbled back downstairs. After getting stuck in the middle of whatever had just happened with Jack and Kent, the party really wasn't the same. Bitty really didn’t want anything else to drink. Usually he liked dancing, but he just couldn’t get into it again, especially since everyone else was just getting more and more drunk. The kitchen was way too full of people to think about making anything. Instead of warm and full and happy, the party felt hot and loud and heavy in his skull. He was far too awake now to even think about going to bed, so he wandered restlessly about from room to room. 

Maybe he just needed a quick break.

He headed outside to the backyard of the Haus. He stepped onto the chilly porch and breathed in a couple deep breaths of the refreshing air. A couple slow breaths of cool night air were already doing wonders to clear his head. 

He only intended to be outside for a second since, even though it was unseasonably warm for December, it was still freezing. However, as he was standing there, he heard a strange hacking noise coming from the side of the Haus, the skinny side next to the fence where there wasn’t actually any room. It was probably someone throwing up, but he figured he’d better go check in case it was one of the team or something. He stepped off the porch, onto the grass and hesitantly poked his head around the corner of the house. 

Instead of a teammate or another college student, it was . . . Kent Parson?

He didn’t seem to be throwing up though, more like having some sort of coughing fit. He knelt on the ground, holding his ribs desperately and coughing so hard he sounded like he was going to cough his stomach right up. Bitty stepped forward to see if he was alright. However, just as he was about to make his presence known, Kent coughed again and spit up chunks of rose petals, some half-open rosebuds, and a few leaves. _Holy crap, Kent Parson has Hanahaki Disease? Bitty thought. And why would be having an attack of it now? Was it someone at the party?_ Kent wiped his mouth and went to stand up, then noticed Bitty.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Kent exclaimed, staggering backwards onto his hands. “Where’d you come from?”

“I’m so sorry,” Bitty said. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, uh, again, I just heard coughing and was coming to see if whoever it was was okay.”

Kent started taking deep breaths, as if to try and calm his lungs down. He squinted, as if trying to place Bitty’s face. “Hey! You’re that guy that was outside of Jack’s room.”

“Yeah, Eric, Eric Bittle. Bitty’s my hockey nickname. I, uh, live here in the Haus actually,” Bitty rambled nervously. “I was, uh, trying to get into my room and I dropped the key and I was trying to pick it up when I heard you guys arguing and I, uh, really didn’t mean to overhear anything but, um. Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Kent waved his hand dismissively. “Eh, well, nothing either of us can do about it now,” Kent said, sighing. “I wish you hadn’t heard that, and I wish you hadn’t seen this, but, oh well, what can you do,” he said, shrugging his shoulders in apparent defeat. 

“So are you alright?” Bitty asked, after a few seconds of silence.

“I’ll be fine.” Kent sighed. “It just gets this way sometimes. When I think too much about . . . well, why I’m this way. Just gotta distract myself for a bit. You won’t tell anyone, right?”

Bitty swallowed. “Um, of course not. You, uh, want some company?” he asked eventually.

Kent looked at him for a bit. After a while, he said, “Sure, why not. I mean, you’ve already seen me hacking up a lung, which is what I was trying to avoid by coming out here, so . . . sure.”

“You want to go inside?” Bitty said. “It’s freezing out here.”

“You got anywhere away from other people?” Kent asked. “I can’t really go back in there like this.”

Bitty wracked his brains, trying to figure out where to go. After the fight with Jack earlier, he doubted Kent would want to go back upstairs to Bitty’s room. Pretty much everywhere else was still full of partygoers.

“The basement should be empty,” Bitty said. “We don’t usually let people down there during parties, and there’s a couch down there we sit on while we do our laundry. I doubt there’ll be anyone down there.” 

Kent looked as if he was going to protest, but another gust of wind whipped around the house and he shivered violently.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Kent said, hugging himself against the cold. Bitty offered his hand to help pull Kent up off the ground.

Bitty led Kent back into the kitchen, dodging around the people playing beer pong on the kitchen table until they got to the basement door. Bitty flicked on the light as Kent discreetly shut the door behind them. They made their way down the rickety, steep basement stairs, light from a couple bare light bulbs shining up through the empty backs of the stairs.

“You sure you’re not bringing me down here to murder me?” Kent joked, looking around at the cement floor with flat carpet scraps for rugs, the exposed beams, and the miscellaneous boxes of holiday decor.

Bitty grimaced. “Sorry,” he said. “It was the only place I could think of that wouldn’t have people in it that wasn’t outside or back upstairs where Jack is.”

Kent winced as he sat down on the couch that was covered with sheets for slipcovers.

“Yeah, that probably wouldn’t have been the best idea,” Kent said. He started coughing again, bending at the waist and holding onto his knees as if for dear life. Another couple petals came up. Kent sat back up and just left them on the carpet.

“You, uh, wanna talk about it?” Bitty said.

“Not really,” Kent sighed, sagging backwards into the couch.

“. . . What do you want to talk about, then?” Bitty said after a few seconds of silence.

“Why don’t we talk about you?” Kent looked Bitty up and down in what almost felt like a once-over. “What’s your story, how’d you end up at Samwell, what’s college life like?”

“Well. Uh. Okay then,” Bitty said, trying to figure out where to start. “Well, I’m from Georgia,” Bitty said. “My mama is a state-fair-winning pie maker and my daddy is a football coach. I used to do figure skating but — well, we had to move away from my coach when I was in middle school and I just didn’t have the heart to find a new one. So I switched to hockey. Realized I was gay pretty early on and started trying to figure out how to get away for college. Samwell’s reputation and the fact they were willing to give me a hockey scholarship pretty much sealed the deal for me, and here I am,” Bitty said with a shrug.

“How’s that working out for you, then?” Kent asked.

Bitty sighed, trying to sort through all his feelings. “I dunno, exactly. Good! I mean, it’s definitely good. But it’s weird, too. I don’t know. I thought being gay at Samwell would be easier,” Bitty said. “Not because anyone has been mean to me!” he added, hurriedly. “Everyone has been really great, actually. But hockey - all sports, for sure, but hockey especially, just are so full of ‘manly men’ and I feel like as a former figure skater and a twinky gay boy I just have to prove myself over and over and over. And I’m still having trouble with the fact that hockey is a contact sport, and I’m so much smaller than everyone.”

“I hear that,” Kent said emphatically.

“Plus it sucks when, well . . .”

“When what?” Kent said.

“When you fall in love with one of your teammates and you’re pretty sure he’s straight.”

“You in love with someone on the team?” Kent said.

Bitty flushed red and didn’t answer for a while. Kent waited him out though, quiet. “It’s. It’s Jack, actually,” he almost whispered.

Kent made a strangled noise halfway between a snort and a laugh.

“What?” Bitty asks, indignant.

Kent grimaced and shook his head.

“No, tell me, what is it?”

“You’re smart. Maybe think for just two seconds,” Kent said.

“Wait, what?” Bitty said.

“You know I’m only at this party because this is where Jack is. You heard me talking to Jack. I’m assuming you know how Hanahaki Disease works?”

“Brought on by extreme unrequited love, gets worse the longer it goes on, gets worse in proximity to or when thinking about the person it’s caused by, only cure is if the love is returned?”

“On the money,” Kent said.

Bitty sat for a bit. “I . . . I still don’t . . .” he said, but the pieces were all rapidly coming together in his brain. “This,” he said, gesturing to Kent and the flower petals on the floor, “is all because of Jack?”

Kent nodded.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Really?” Bitty asked.

“Yeah,” Kent sighed. He looked off into the distance, as if staring into the past or something, and Bitty felt both extremely jealous and extremely sad for Kent all at the same time. “We . . . had something, once, a long time ago,” Kent said. “Or I thought we did. Found out after the draft that it didn’t mean as much to Jack as it did to me. He went off to rehab and I never heard from him again. I’ve been like this ever since.”

“But that was like . . . five years ago!” Bitty said.

“Yep.”

“How have you been playing hockey this whole time if it’s already this bad?”

“Well, since I’m all the way in Vegas I’m not really in danger of being in close physical proximity to him. Most of the time I can tune it out and not think about it and it doesn’t bother me at all. I’ve learned how to live with it.”

“So what’re you doing out here then, if being around him only makes it worse?” Bitty asked.

Kent sighed. “A small part of me still hopes that maybe one day he’ll change his mind, you know?”

Bitty winced sympathetically. 

The silence hung heavy around them for a little while.

“You wanna talk about something else?” Kent asked eventually.

“Yeah, uh, yeah. I meant to make you feel better, not worse,” Bitty said. “Uh. Talking. Things to talk about. You live in Vegas now, right, since you’re with the Aces? What’s your favorite show you’ve been to? I hear the Cirque Du Soleil stuff is pretty amazing.”

Kent paused to consider. “Yeah, Vegas has got all kinds of crazy stuff. The Cirque Du Soleil stuff is indeed amazing. Like, I know that most people consider the stuff I do on the ice to be pretty crazy, but man . . . those guys are insane. No way I could ever do the stuff they do. The magician shows are pretty cool too, honestly. I mean, all of it is. It’s kind of crazy people are willing to come watch a regular old sports match with all the other crazy stuff that’s there. But honestly, I really love Britney’s show.”

“Britney Spears?” Bitty asked, a little incredulous.

“Who else would I be talking about? Hell yeah, Britney Spears. She’s awesome.”

“I mean . . . she’s kind of . . . . washed up now, isn’t she? Isn’t that what having a permanent show in Las Vegas kind of means if you’re a singer?”

“Washed up?” Kent shot back, acting exaggeratingly offended. “Britney can never be washed up. Britney is the queen of pop, and as such will always be queen of my heart.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down,” Bitty said, leaning into the argument. “Britney cannot be the queen of pop, because that title is most definitely held by Beyoncé.”

“Beyoncé, queen of pop? No way,” Kent said, smirking.

“Oh, you did not just insult Queen Bey like that,” Bitty said. “It is on, Kent Parson, it is on.”

  
  


Hours later, the booming music and raucous laughter from upstairs had quieted down, until you could hardly tell that a party was supposed to be going on upstairs at all. Bitty was struggling valiantly to keep his eyes open. He and Kent had managed to edge closer to each other on the couch during the rest of their conversation, and Bitty was in real danger of just passing out on Kent’s shoulder, cuddled up under his arm. The barest hint of early morning light was starting to play through the basement windows. 

Kent heaved a giant sigh, mingled with a yawn. “Well. I’d better go. I’ve got to get back —”

“Today, probably, now. Believe me, I wish I didn’t,” Kent said. There was a fraction of a pause. “It’s been really nice talking to you, Bits.” Kent’s eyes lingered on Bitty’s face, and for half a second, Bitty had the strangest feeling that maybe Kent was going to kiss him. “Good luck with your crush,” Kent said eventually, breaking the strange moment. He stood up off of the couch, shaking out the joints in his arms and legs and popping his neck. “Just, you know. Don’t let yourself end up like me.”

Bitty, who had been feeling mostly giggly and giddy, sobered. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Kent. I hope you feel better soon.” 

“You know that’s not how it works. But thanks.” Kent’s face did something halfway between a wince and a smile. Kent stood up, took his snapback off, smoothed his hair, and put it back on again. “You, uh, gonna show me the way out of here?”

They trudged back up the basement stairs. The kitchen was an absolute trash heap of discarded beer pong cups, spilled tub juice, and people passed out on the floor. Bitty wrinkled his nose as they made their way through the house and out onto the front porch.

“Well, I’ll, uh, see you ‘round, okay?” Kent said, staring into Bitty’s eyes for what felt like way too long.

“Goodbye, Mr. Parson,” Bitty said.

“Bye, Bitty,” Kent said, and with a final smirk, headed off towards his car. 

Bitty stood on the porch staring forlornly at the black Lamborghini making its way into the distance for way, way too long, before stumbling himself up the stairs and passing out face first onto his mattress, just managing to kick off his shoes before the darkness took him.

* * *

Bitty woke up the next morning bleary and achy with a hangover, feeling like something vaguely important happened last night. He stumbled downstairs, picking his way around the piles of cups and sticky puddles on the floor. His tongue was sticking to the inside of his mouth, so he got himself a drink of water and then turned around to survey the damage. 

The kitchen was in absolutely no shape to cook anything, unfortunately. Luckily, it looked like someone had started trying to clean up last night, because there were some garbage bags mostly full of cups slumping limply on the floor, cups spilling out of their sagging openings. At least it was a start.

Having finished his water, Bitty set his cup down in the sink and sighed. He was going to need his music if anything productive was going to happen.

He climbed wearily up the stairs, grumbling to himself under his breath, fetched his laptop and grumbled himself back down the stairs. 

Before he started up his music, he flipped through his various social medias. There were a lot of notifications on Facebook and Twitter; probably teammates tagging him in pictures of last night. He scrolled through the blurry pictures of people holding cups when he stumbled on a picture he apparently posted himself?

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
Had to get a pic w/ NHL star Kent Parson!! #SamwellUniversity #TypicalSamwellParty #EpiKegster #NHL#omgcheckplease 10:21 pm - 13 Dec 2014  35  200 

He scrunched his eyes shut for a few seconds and opened them again. That’s right. Kent Parson was here. Kent Parson had a big fight with Jack. He found Kent Parson out behind the house coughing up flowers. He and Kent Parson sat on the couch in the murder basement and talked for hours. The conversation hit him like a suddenly-remembered dream and he was briefly overwhelmed by a weird mix of complicated feelings: sadness for Kent, anger at Kent for calling Jack worthless, worry for Jack, anger at Jack for cutting Kent out like that. 

He started scrolling through Kent’s Twitter feed. He was actually pretty funny on Twitter, and his cat was absolutely adorable. Bitty hesitated for a second, then followed Kent before he could second-guess himself. Bitty switched over to Spotify and started up his playlist so he could get the kitchen clean enough to where he could make some cinnamon rolls or something.

Not an hour later, Bitty’s phone went off with a Twitter notification. _Kent Parson (@kentvparson) has followed you_

“Oh my gosh, what?” Bitty whispered to himself.

“What’s up, Bitty?” said Holster, who was helping him pick up trash in the living room.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Bitty said, turning the screen off and sticking it back in his pocket. He screamed internally. A couple seconds later, the Twitter notification went off again. _Kent Parson (@kvparson) has replied to your tweet._ There, as a response to the picture he’d posted, was a reply from Kent.

Kent Parson   
@kvparson   
@omgcheckplease It was great meeting you last night! I still maintain my opinion that Britney is better than Beyonce though.  10:23 AM - 14 Dec 2014  2,144  2,901 

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
@kvparson As this is a free country, you are certainly entitled to your opinions, even if they are WRONG 😒😒  10:25 am - 14 Dec 2014  10  148 

Bitty nearly started hyperventilating trying to pick out the right emojis for the end of the tweet. He was having Flirty Twitter Banter with Kent Parson, of all people. On Twitter. Where people could SEE. And Kent didn’t seem to mind. 

“Oh Lord, my poor heart,” Bitty whispered to himself.

* * *

The house was finally, finally clean, cinnamon rolls made, and Bitty was sitting on his bed half-heartedly attempting to study for the final for the food seminar while mostly scrolling through Twitter. He kept going back to his feed, staring at Kent’s response to his tweet and trying to calm the weird, swoopy feeling in his gut.

“So’re you ready for the final this afternoon, Bits?” Jack asked, standing in the doorway of Bitty’s room.

Bitty jumped about ten feet sideways, feeling like he was almost going to fall off the bed.

“Oh Lord, don’t sneak up on me like that, Jack,” Bitty said, heart pounding, putting his phone down.

Jack’s mouth twitched into a tiny smile.

“As ready as I’m going to be, probably.” Bitty rubbed his eyes, looking back at the notes that he’d been vaguely staring in the direction of while trying to think of a witty comeback to Kent’s latest tweet. He sighed. “You?”

“Want to go over the study guide together?” Jack asked.

“Oh, would you?” Bitty said. “I mean, I really do think I’ve got a pretty good handle on it, but I’d never say no to going over it with some company,” he said, immediately internally wincing at his word choice.

“Well, let me go get my copy and we can compare notes,” Jack said.

Their study session was actually extremely productive for Bitty, despite how he’d thought he’d remembered everything of importance. Jack’s notes were much more thorough, and he brought up several things that Bitty vaguely remembered talking about, but hadn’t considered fully as to their implications for the final. Pretty soon, they weren’t even studying for the final necessarily, but having a full-blown conversation about topics in the course that they’d found particularly interesting.

It was about 2:00pm when Jack looked at his watch, jumped up, and said “I’ve got a couple things I have to do before the final, meet you there in an hour?” 

Bitty just nodded as Jack rushed off.

  
  


Jack was waiting for him outside the classroom right before 3:00pm, holding two steaming cups. “I know they don’t have those pumpkin spice ones anymore, but I know you like fancy coffees, so I got you one of the peppermint mocha things they’re doing for Christmas,” Jack said. “Hopefully you like it?”

“You are a wonderful, wonderful man,” Bitty said, taking the steaming to-go cup from Jack and slurping at it ever-so-delicately to test the temperature. It was still definitely too hot to actually drink, but it smelled amazing. 

Jack smiled softly at Bitty.

“What? what is it?” Bitty asked.

“I just can’t get over how much you wrap up in the winter,” Jack said. “You look like that kid from _The Christmas Story_.”

“Well excuse me, mister I-grew-up-in-Canada-on-the-ice-and-am-now-impervious-to-cold,” Bitty said. “Some of us are not used to such temperatures and must prevent ourselves from freezing. I’d like to see how you fare in Georgia in the middle of July.”

Jack chuckled. “Not well, I think.”

They walked into the classroom together and found a pair of desks next to each other. Bitty set his coffee on Jack’s desk. “Can you hold onto this for just a second longer?” Bitty asked as he started peeling himself out of his layers. Mittens were first to go, but Bitty knocked them off the desk with the corner of his coat as he unwrapped his scarf, and his scarf then proceeded to slither off the other side of the desk while he struggled with the sleeves. Jack managed to snag them all off of the floor while Bitty was spinning around trying to find everything. “Thanks Jack,” Bitty said, taking his mittens and stuffing them into his hat, wrapping everything up in his coat, and stuffing it under the desk.

Jack’s smile was at a level that practically constituted mega-watt levels for him.

“I see why you asked me to hold onto your coffee for you still,” he said. “Wouldn’t have wanted it to get caught on your scarf or something.”

“You shut your mouth, Mr. Zimmerman. I just wanted to make sure that your lovely gift was still in a state to be appreciated by the time I managed to peel myself out of everything.”

Most of the rest of the class had filed in, and the professor was standing up at the front of the room with a stack of stapled tests in her hands. “Alright, everyone, writing utensils and blue books out,” she said. “You have three hours. Good luck,” she said.

“Wait for me if you finish first,” Bitty whispered to Jack. Jack just smiled and nodded before bending his head down over the test.

An hour and thirteen minutes later, Bitty turned in his blue book and test and thanked the professor for the semester. Jack was still working, pouring over his blue book and scribbling what looked like some kind of paragraph outline. 

“See you when you finish,” Bitty whispered to Jack as he retrieved his coat and his scarf and his hat full of mittens and his backpack and his coffee. He walked out of the classroom and set up camp on one of the cushioned bench things in the hallway. 

Kent Parson   
@kvparson   
@omgcheckplease How on earth were you chipper enough to make an entire kitchen’s worth of cinnamon rolls *and* take a test after all of that?  3:02 pm - 14 Dec 2014  2,301  3,062 

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
@kvparson 1) I’m running on caffeine fumes and sugar now, don’t remind me, and 2) I could make those cinnamon rolls in my sleep. Or drunk.  4:16 pm - 14 Dec 2014  17  123 

Kent Parson   
@kvparson   
@omgcheckplease I take it you’ve tried?  4:27 pm - 14 Dec 2014  2,301  3,062 

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
@kvparson I once woke up after a party and the kitchen was covered in cinnamon rolls and I didn’t remember a blessed thing  4:30 pm - 14 Dec 2014  17  123 

Kent Parson   
@kvparson   
@omgcheckplease Damn. Wish drunk me made cinnamon rolls without me knowing. Usually I can’t even get drunk me to drink some gatorade or anything  4:35 pm - 14 Dec 2014  2,301  3,062 

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
@kvparson Well, make a few hundred batches and you’ll get it eventually. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of hungry hockey players around to help you eat them.  4:42 pm - 14 Dec 2014  17  123 

“Didn’t think you’d still be here, Bits,” Jack said when he finally made his way out of the classroom. 

“I told you I’d wait for you, didn’t I?” Bitty said, standing up and starting to put all the layers back on.

“Yeah but you were out of there so fast and I’m one of the last people done. You must have been waiting for at least an hour.”

“It’s fine, I figured you were the kind of person to reread and triple-check all your answers. It’s not like I had anything better to do since ALL OF MY FINALS ARE DONE NOW!!” Bitty said, raising his voice and jumping just a little.

“Got any big plans to celebrate?” Jack asked.

“Nothing really, probably going to go back to the Haus and get my Christmas on for real,” Bitty said. “It’s going to look like a cookie factory exploded by the end of the night, just wait and see.”

Jack laughed. “Well what do you think about getting some dinner or something?” he asked. “My treat. As thanks for helping me through this class.”

Bitty chuffed. “Oh please, as if you didn’t help me just as much. I may have helped out with the cooking, but the history parts were all you. Heck, if you hadn’t helped me study for the final last night, I don’t know if I would be feeling nearly this good about it right now.”

Jack smiled. “Annie’s?” he said hopefully.

"Absolutely," Bitty said.

"So what's your favorite thing about Christmas?" Bitty asked Jack as they were waiting for their food.

Jack paused for a few moments, looking out the window. 

"I like lots of things about Christmas," he said eventually. "And I know this is going to sound really cliché, but we have an ice rink in the backyard that we always play a bunch of shinny games with the cousins and uncles and friends and whoever is over at the house that year." Jack smiled softly. "A lot of the time we don't separate it by age or anything, so you have the little five year olds wobbling around and crashing into everyone and the twelve year olds zipping around so fast they trip everyone up and the rest of us just trying not to cause any harm. It's a lot of fun. Even when it's quieter and it's just me and my dad, it's still really nice," Jack said.

Bitty laughed. "No wonder you're so good at hockey then," he said. "There's no way anyone could have an ice rink in their backyard in Georgia. We don't even get snow for Christmas, let alone ice."

“I can’t even imagine not having snow for Christmas,” Jack said. “And seriously, I know that I gave you . . . kind of a hard time about your hockey skills when you first started out, but I’m seriously so impressed, first that you were able to get good enough to transition from figure skating to hockey quickly enough to get on the team, and second at just how much you’ve improved in the last year and a half.”

Bitty blushed. “That’s awfully nice of you to say,” he said, averting his eyes. 

“I mean it, Bitty,” Jack said, ducking his head too to meet Bitty’s eyes. “You’ve gotten really good. You won’t even need me next year.”

Bitty’s heart dropped at the reminder that Jack was going to be graduating in just a few short months. “Well. Maybe I won’t need you, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice to have you around,” Bitty said shyly.

Jack looked down and away, looking as if he was blushing slightly as well.

Just then, their food arrived.

* * *

Jack  
  
**Today** 11:18 AM  
I'm surprised your cookies got through customs Bittle  
Hopefully they weren't too smashed!!  
Not at all. Also, my mom wants the recipe.  
well, it's an old family secret, but if I tell my mom that Alicia Zimmerman wants her secret recipe to make cookies for Bad Bob, perhaps she can be persuaded 😉  
That would be great.  
So how's Canada?  
Good.  
Just good?  
Really good?  
Are you asking me?  
No. It is really good.  
But I miss everybody  
Jack's little typing indicator flashes for a long time.

Bitty had to lock his phone and attempt to do something else to distract himself for a while because Jack was taking so long to respond. It didn’t really work and he kept checking back every couple seconds to see if Jack had responded yet.

Jack  
  
Just good?  
Really good?  
Are you asking me?  
No. It is really good.  
But I miss everybody  
**Today** 11:55 AM  
especially you.  


Bitty just about squealed out loud. No way. No way had Jack just said that. What? What????? Bitty tried to act nonchalant about it, trying not to reply too fast or too slow. What even was the right number of minutes to wait to answer something like that, anyways?

Jack  
  
But I miss everybody  
**Today** 11:55 AM  
especially you.  
**Today** 12:01 PM  
I miss you too  
I'm kind of sad we don't have any classes together next semester  
Me too.  
Although I'm looking forward to the photography class I'll be taking  
You're taking photography? That's really cool! What made you want to do that?  
Well I'm basically done with most of my major requirements, so I thought I'd do some fun classes. And I like taking photos. I used to take a lot of them, with little disposable cameras.   
I've still got boxes and boxes of them  
That’s really cool  
That sounds like that will be a lot of fun  


* * *

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
‘Tis the season! Learn how to make one of my favorite holiday treats. [link to one of his videos] 2:30 pm - 18 Dec 2014  17  123 

Kent Parson   
@kvparson   
@omgcheckplease am I doing it right? [Picture of hideously malformed cookies]  9:31 pm - 18 Dec 2014  2,301  3,062 

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
@kvparson Oh Gosh! Looks like you got a little too enthusiastic and forgot to refrigerate the dough first. And also probably used too much frosting.  10:17 pm - 18 Dec 2014  17  123 

DM from @kvparson

 **kvparson** : So I've watched the video like five times and I still can't figure out what I did wrong

 **omgcheckplease** : are you sure you refrigerated them?

 **kvparson** : yep, definitely did

 **omgcheckplease** : and when you made the dough, was your butter refrigerated or at room temperature?

 **kvparson** : does that make a difference?

 **omgcheckplease** : it does with this

 **kvparson** : oh. Uh. What one is it supposed to be?

 **omgcheckplease** : definitely refrigerated

 **kvparson** : oh. Hmm. Let me try again.

 **kvparson** : so

 **kvparson** : what're you up to for winter break

 **kvparson** : besides making Christmas cookies

 **omgcheckplease** : mostly just trying to smile, make polite conversation, and not start any unnecessary family feuds

 **kvparson** : only necessary ones?

 **omgcheckplease** : I mean

 **omgcheckplease** : if Aunt Judy insinuates that my lemon meringue is inferior to hers one more time, the feud would definitely be necessary at that point

 **kvparson** : oh, well if she insults your meringue. . . 

 **omgcheckplease** : I’ll have you know my lemon meringue is my pride and joy. That's one of my most-watched videos on YouTube. People keep telling me they've never made meringue before and were able to make it after watching that video.

 **kvparson** : well you’d think you’d be able to explain how to make cookies in a way that even a beginner like myself could figure out then

 **kvparson** : since I would think cookies are easier than meringue

omgcheckplease: well there’s just no accounting for some people

 **kvparson** : you wound me, Bits

omgcheckplease: I would never

omgcheckplease: at least not for anything you didn’t deserve ;)

* * *

Jack  
  
**Today** 09:51 AM  
Merry Christmas, Bits  
Merry Christmas Jack :)  


* * *

[Picture of Kent volunteering at a pet shelter, surrounded by puppies and kittens]

Kent Parson   
@kvparson   
These guys are so cute, almost makes me want to get another one! (Don’t let Kit hear me say that lol!)  2:51 pm - 28 Dec 2014  2,301  3,062 

DM from @kvparson

 **omgcheckplease** : are you actually doing charity or are they just pimping you out to middle aged housewives who can’t resist cute puppies and cute boys?

 **kvparson** : is that a compliment I detect somewhere in there?

 **omgcheckplease** : I think your eyes deceive you

* * *

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
New vlog! Got inspired by GBBO and tried my hand at a savory bread. Check out this spicy cheese bread: [video link] 12:00 pm - 30 Dec 2014  17  123 

DM from @kvparson

 **kvparson** : lol it looks like a poop emoji but it tastes fantastic [picture of bread]

 **omgcheckplease** : omg did you make it yourself???

 **kvparson** : I did! I’ve been working my way through your videos and the basic bread one actually didn’t go too bad, and this looked fucking delicious, so I thought I’d try it out

 **omgcheckplease** : I’m so proud of you!!

 **omgcheckplease** : my little boy, all grown up 

* * *

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
Shitty: Oh yeah, Parson had the... Jack: Hatty. Second one this season.  9:08 pm - 8 Jan 2015  17  123 

DM from @kvparson

 **omgcheckplease** : good job, by the way

 **kvparson** : thanks

 **omgcheckplease** : that last goal looked positively filthy

 **kvparson** : *waggles eyebrows* oh I’ll show you filthy

 **omgcheckplease** : Mr. Parson, you scandalous man

* * *

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
Making a quiche for my lunch date with Farmer and that tenderhearted goaltender Chowder.  10:54 AM - 22 Jan 2015  3  69 

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
*gasp* they're here  11:53 AM - 22 Jan 2015  2  39 

“Hi Bitty!!” Chowder said.

“Hi!” said a tall brunette, holding out her hand. “You must be Bitty.”

“And you must be Farmer,” Bitty said. “So nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She smiled warmly. “You can call me Caitlyn if you want. Farmer is fine too though. I know the hockey team is big on last names.”

“Farmer it is,” Bitty said. “So,” he continued, leading them towards the table, “I hope you guys like quiche!”

“Swawesome!” Chowder said, pulling out a chair for Farmer.

“It smells amazing,” Farmer said, sitting down.

“Well, dig in!” Bitty said, sitting down.

Chowder and Farmer paused, looking between themselves, the knife, the pie server and the quiche.

“Oh here, let me get it,” Bitty said, cutting in. “Farmer?” he said, managing to dig the first piece out without so much as an incident. Chowder got the next piece, then his own. “So, I have just been so excited for this lunch with y’all,” Bitty said.

Just then, there were some footsteps on the stairs. Jack stepped into the kitchen, looking at Bitty and Farmer. “Oh, am I interrupting something?” he said.

“Wait, Jack’s eating with us too??” Chowder said excitedly. “Swawesome!!”

“Is that quiche?” Jack said.

Bitty sighed. “Sure, you want to come and have some with us?”

Jack sat down in the chair next to Bitty and helped himself to a piece of quiche. Bitty couldn’t help but focus on the fact that he and Jack were sitting across from Chowder and Farmer, as if they were all on a double date. Bitty sighed internally. If only.

Bitty zoned back into the conversation. "So basically the first thing I remember is being on the ice with my dad holding me up," Jack said.

"Oh no way!!!" Chowder said. "Me too!!! Wait, I mean, like, my dad, not your dad, of course."

Farmer giggled. "Chris!!! Oh my God, of course we know you don't mean Jack's dad."

"What's your first memory, Bitty?" Chowder asked.

"Well, as much as I'd like it to be meaningful like baking something with my mom or ice skating or something, honestly literally the first thing I remember is standing in front of the full length mirror in my parent’s room, dancing around and singing 'I'm three! I'm three!'" Bitty said.

Farmer snorted. "Honestly, that's way more hilarious. Don't be ashamed of it."

The conversation rambled on easily and amiably as the rest of the quiche disappeared. Eventually, Farmer had to go to class, and Chowder excused himself so he could walk her there. Bitty started clearing off the table, surprised when Jack grabbed a couple dishes and started helping.

"She seemed nice," Jack said.

Bitty smiled. "I'm sure Chowder will be absolutely thrilled to hear that," Bitty said. "He looks up to you a lot, you know."

Jack ducked his head. 

"But she does seem like a great match for him. I'm glad it ended up working out so well; I was so nervous."

"Why?" Jack said, rinsing off another plate.

"I honestly don't know," Bitty said. "I just care about Chowder a lot, you know, and I know he looks up to me, and I guess I was just really hoping we'd all get along."

"Well it looks like it will be fine," Jack said. "Thanks for the quiche; it was really good. Nice and full of protein, too."

"Mr Zimmerman, are you _chirping_ me?" Bitty gasped, mock scandalized.

"Never," Jack said, the corner of his mouth quirking up just slightly.

* * *

Bitty was trying to focus on the “cooking and sweets” aspect of Valentine’s Day rather than the . . . anything else. Chowder was freaking out over what to get Farmer, so Bitty was helping him make homemade chocolate-dipped strawberries and frosted heart-shaped sugar cookies.

“Are you sure she’s gonna like these?” Chowder asked (for the fifth time) sounding utterly in despair.

“Well I can’t promise anything, hun, but I think delicious food and the fact that you made them yourself would go a long way towards anyone’s heart,” Bitty said. 

“But what if I like, accidentally roll them in salt instead of sugar or something???” Chowder wailed, still freaking out.

“Well that’s why I’m here,” Bitty said. “I wouldn’t let you do something awful like that, now would I?”

“No. No, you’re right. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Just breathe,” Chowder said to himself, taking several deep breaths.

Jack came down the stairs just at that exact moment. His eyebrows wrinkled a little as he took in Chowder’s panic and the mountains of sweets and baked goods in the kitchen. He caught Bitty’s eye and tilted his head towards Chowder, as if to ask “what’s wrong with him?”

“Oh hi, Jack!” Bitty said brightly. “Chowder’s just trying to impress Farmer for Valentine’s Day, and I said he can’t go wrong with some homemade treats! He’s still worried they’re not going to turn out, though.”

“Oh,” Jack said. He turned and looked at Chowder. “You know Bitty won’t let anything happen to your cookies, right?” he said. “Everything Bitty makes is delicious. It won’t be a problem.”

Bitty felt a blush creeping up his neck and into his ears. “Mr Zimmerman, you flatterer. It’s not like I’ve never ruined a recipe in my life. I’ll have you know I once burnt a pie so badly my mama had to keep all the windows in the house open for days to get the smell out.”

Jack smiled. “And how long ago was that?”

“Oh, well, I was only 12 at the time,” Bitty said, blush continuing to swell at full force.

“See? And I’ll bet you haven’t burnt anything since then,” Jack said. “So calm down, Chowder, you’re in good hands.” Jack’s lips quirked up in one of his fond half-smiles and Bitty’s heart just about melted completely.

“D’you want to try one? Just to make sure they pass muster?” Bitty said, trying to get a hold on his wildly fluttering heart. “Make sure they’re 100% captain-approved?”

“I suppose I could do that, if you need me to,” Jack said in a lightly-teasing tone of voice. “Can’t hurt to be _sure_.”

“Here, try one of these,” Bitty said, picking one of the cooled ones that he’d just finished frosting. It said “Be Mine” in icy pink frosting on a background of red. Bitty tried not to let himself think about whether it was a declaration of intent or not. (Of course it was. It absolutely was.)

“This is delicious, Bits,” Jack said after biting into it and wiping the crumbs from his chin. “You’ll have no problem, Chowder, your girlfriend will absolutely love these.” Jack started heading towards the door. “Good luck you two!” He got almost to the door and looked back. “Oh, and Bits - thanks for this,” he said, gesturing with the remains of the cookie, “it’s delicious.” There was a real, full smile on his face this time.

Bitty’s heart didn’t stop pounding for at least an hour.

Later, cookies baked, strawberries dipped, and Chowder on his merry way to go romance his girlfriend, Bitty sat in his bedroom on his laptop, listlessly trying to edit the next vlog video. Helping Chowder with his wooing efforts was only enough to stave off the gloom for so long; as much as he tried, he couldn’t shake the fact that he didn’t have anyone to spend Valentine’s day with, and the person (people!) he wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with were wildly unattainable in their own ways. 

So Bitty was perfectly content to melt into his pillows and mindlessly scroll through the internet to distract himself. 

(He said to himself as he scrolled through Kent’s Twitter feed). 

Eventually, some hours later and no closer to finishing editing his vlog, Bitty yawned. He put his computer away and turned off the light in the hopes that it would help convince his brain to fall asleep, but here he was on his phone scrolling through Twitter again anyways. A DM notification from Kent popped up.

 

 **Kent:** u there?

 **Kent:** knda need smn to tkl to

 **Kent:** imso lnoesly rn

 **Kent:** fkn htr vlnttss day

 **Bitty:** Are you drunk rn?

 **Kent:** meby

 **Bitty:** Kent . . . 

 **Bitty:** you know that won’t help

 **Kent:** i knw

 **Kent:** hurts thugh

 **Kent:** fkcn flowssr

 **Kent:** fuckn hte roses now n there all over tdy

 **Kent:** don likd roses now thyre commn out f my lunsg

 **Bitty:** Yeah, that’s understandable

Bitty wrote and erased and rewrote and erased as he tried to figure out a good way to ask what he wanted. Was Kent safe? He obviously wasn’t okay but like, was he at a club? Was he at home? Did he have anyone there with him? Finally he settled on something innocuous enough.

 

 **Bitty:** Are you home rn?

 **Kent:** yea

 **Kent:** just layhn in my coch

 **Kent:** all by mrself

 **Kent:** got kit atlest

 **Kent:** [blurry photo mostly of Kit’s fur, with Kent’s face in the dark background, looking very drunk]

 **Kent:** cna i cal u?

 **Kent:** wnana just talk to smeone

 **Kent:** an typngs hrad

 **Bitty:** sure, that’s fine

 **Bitty:** [Bitty’s phone number]

 

Bitty’s phone started vibrating a few seconds later. “Hello?” he said.

“Bits?” said a slurred voice over the phone.

“Kent?”

“Hey,” Kent said.

“Hey,” Bitty said, not sure what to say. 

“I’m so sad,” Kent said. “Why are cute guys like us still alone on Valentine’s Day?”

“You think I’m cute?” Bitty squeaked.

“What? ‘F course! You’re the cutest. So cute. Cute cute cute.”

“Well thank you, Mr Parson,” Bitty said, blushing very thoroughly. “You’re pretty cute yourself, you know.”

“I _knooooowwwwww_ ,” Kent said. “How come all our cuteness doesn’t get us anywhere?”

“Probably because we’re only interested in people who don’t like us?” Bitty said.

“UUUGGGHHH,” Kent said. “That’s dumb. Why’re we dumb, Bits? We could have like, aaannnyyyybody.” There was silence for a while. Bitty didn’t really know what to say. “Or we could like. . .” Kent’s sentence trailed off into mumbling. 

“What’s that, hun?” Bitty said.

“I said we could like, get tgthr rrrselves,” Kent said, slurring the words still. “S too bad yrr not closer, we could totally like, sad bone each other n talk shit about Jack.”

Bitty shivered as a thrill went through him. He imagined being there with Kent, curled up with him in his probably-very-comfy bed, laying his head on Kent’s chest as he slept off the alcohol. “Yeah, I . . . I wouldn’t mind bein’ there with you right now. You sound like you could use someone to take care of you.”

“You’d take care of me? I bet you’d be so good at it. Make me good food and pet my hair. I'd be good frrr you. Be yrrrrr good boy. I jush try so hard to be good . . ." Kent said, trailing off as if talking to himself.

Bitty was feeling hot all over for some reason and his heart was pounding. He wanted nothing more than to be there, to run his hands through Kent's hair, to make him drink some water and tuck him in bed (and tuck himself right up next to him).

"You can still be good for me, even if I'm not there though," Bitty said, drawing in a shaking breath. "Are you still drinking whatever you were drinking?"

"Nah, 'sss all gone," Kent said.

"Good. Do you have any Gatorade in your fridge?"

"Yeah, I love that shhtuff," Kent said. "Wasssyrr favrit color?"

"Well I'm quite partial to the blue kind myself," Bitty said. "What about you?"

"Blue's my favrit tooo!" Kent said. "We're like, Gatorade ssssshoulmates!!"

"Yep," Bitty said, a fond smile spreading over his face. "You got any blue Gatorade right now?"

"Oh yeah, there's like a sssshhhitton in there. It's like all I have in there."

"Well great," Bitty said. “Can you go get a Gatorade for me?"

"But . . . you’re not here," Kent said plaintively. “How’ll you drink a gatorade?”

"I know, sweet pea, I'm not going to drink it, you are. You're going to get yourself a Gatorade and drink it for me, okay?"

"Okay," Kent said. There’s a lot of miscellaneous rustling noises, like the phone sliding over fabric, maybe what could be a fridge opening and closing, the phone being put down and picked up. Bitty struggled to keep his eyes open because he was indeed very tired, but he wanted to make sure Kent was okay. “I drunk some,” Kent said after a while.

“Great, hun, good job. I knew you’d be good,” Bitty said. “Now, can you walk yourself into the bedroom for me? Make sure to bring the Gatorade with you.”

More rustling noises, some muffled thumps. “Walking is so harddddd,” 

“I know, honey, I know,” Bitty said sympathetically. “I know it’s really hard, but you’ll feel so much better in your bed, I promise.”

Kent mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “ ‘d feel so much better in _your_ bed.”

“Kent Parson! So scandalous,” Bitty teased. “Are you at your bed yet?”

“Almost there,” Kent said. After a few more seconds of shuffling, a soft “whoa!” and muffled almost-thumping.

“You okay?” Bitty said hesitantly. 

“Yehh. Just sittin on the edge now. ‘M fine.”

“Good. You still have that gatorade?” 

“Yup.”

“Good, can you drink some more of it?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Kent said. 

“Great. You’re doing so good. Do you have an end table you can put the bottle on?”

“Mmmhhmm.”

“Good. Put the bottle on the end table.”

More shuffling. “Now what?”

“Do you have any shoes or socks you need to take off?”

“Naw.”

“Are you wearing jeans or anything that would be uncomfortable to sleep in?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Get in your bed, under your covers,” Bitty said. More rustling noises came from the other end of the line. “Are you comfy now?”

“Yeah . . . . I guess,” Kent said sadly.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Bitty said gently.

“Still lonely.”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry. You know I would be there for you if I could. But you need to get some sleep now, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You can talk to me some more in the morning, or whenever you’re feeling better. But you should go to sleep.”

“Okay Bits. Yrrr th’ best,” Kent mumbled sleepily. “Night.”

“Goodnight. Sleep well, honey.”

“ ‘k,” Kent said very softly, just before Bitty hung up.

Bitty took in a huge breath and sighed heavily. What the heck had just happened? Kent was apparently drunk dialing him now? And maybe had feelings for him? Or maybe was just lonely? Confused and semi-hard, Bitty put his phone away, rolled over, and tried to ignore everything and go to sleep.

* * *

Bitty woke up to several messages from a number he didn’t have saved in his phone, but that could really only be from one person.

Unknown  
  
Hey Bits  
  
It's me, Kent  
  
You probably knew that  
  
This is my phone number  
  
So I guess you have that now  
  
Which is fine!  
  
But like, what did I say last night  
  
Bc it looks like I was pretty drunk 🙃  
  
And I think I called u  
  


Kent  
  
And I think I called u  
haha yeah you did  
you were pretty drunk  
it was fine though  
mostly you were sad and wanted to talk  
and you wished I was there  
and then I told you to drink some gatorade and go to bed  
so THAT’s why there’s a gatorade bottle on my nightstand  
drunk me usually isn’t that smart  
I think it helped the hangover though  
ngl I feel pretty awful  
but not as awful as I probably should feel  
so thanks  
for making my drunk ass take care of myself  
sorry again  
No need to apologize, hun  
I’m glad it helped  
feeling any better?  
Not really? Idk  
Not about to get drunk again any time soon  
but it’s nice knowing your there for me  
what’re you doing today?  
thankfully it’s Sunday, so no classes  
just gonna chill and probably bake more stuff  
Oh yeah? Like what?  
Oh, you know  
Kind of sick of strawberries and red things so I was gonna make a lemon cake probably  
Ugh, that sounds so good  
You can’t have any!  
Even if you were here, you have a diet plan to stick to, mister!  
I know, Bits, I know  
post pictures of it?  
I’ve got to live vicariously through you somehow  


* * *

Later in March, Bitty knocked on Jack’s door. 

“Hey Jack, I saved some pie for you,” he said, opening the door carefully.

Jack was sitting on his bed with papers and what look like maybe pictures scattered around him. He was holding some sort of photo and staring at it morosely. “Oh, hey Bits,” he said, looking up.

“You okay?” Bitty asked.

Jack sighed. “Yeah, I’m . . . fine, I guess,” he said. “I’m just still trying to figure out exactly what to do for my final photography project and I was thinking about doing some sort of 'then and now' thing, or using my old photos, so I had my mom ship me a box of some of them and I found this one of me and Kent and I just. Couldn’t stop looking at it, I guess.” He looked back to the photo.

Bitty set the pie down on Jack’s desk and came around to sit with him on the bed. The picture was of a much younger-looking Jack & Kent, all dressed up in hockey gear, sweaty from whatever game or practice they’d just been in, arms slung around each other. It made Bitty’s heart ache to see them both so young and so happy in a way he hadn’t really seen either of them in the time that he’d known them.

“It’s been a long time since then, huh,” Bitty said.

Jack sighed. “Yeah. It’s. It feels like forever ago. Like I don’t even know that person anymore.”

“Yourself, or Kent?” 

“Both of us, I guess.”

“Well, you could get to know him again.”

“Myself, or Kent?” Jack said, mirroring Bitty’s earlier comment.

“Both. I mean, I think you’re already learning who you yourself are. But you could probably get to know Kent again too, if you wanted to.”

Jack sighed again. “I don’t know, Bitty, it’s been so long. What would I even say?”

“Didn’t you tell me that you both have a lot to apologize for? I don’t know whether or not he feels the same way, but you could probably start with an apology of some kind. Maybe not the heavy stuff right away, but, you know. Apologize for not talking to him in so long, say you have some apologies to make, you want to try and get to know him again. That kind of thing.”

“I don’t even know if the number I have for him anymore still works.”

“Well, if it doesn’t, there’s always Twitter,” Bitty said, with a wry twist of his lips.

Jack smiled gently. “Twitter? You know I don’t know how that works, Bits.”

“I could show you,” Bitty said.

“Well, I’ll try calling first,” Jack said. “And if that doesn’t work, I guess I can let you show me how Twitter works.”

“That sounds great, Jack,” Bitty said. They stood there, smiling softly at each other for a few seconds, the conversation about Kent obviously played out.

“So, what’re you thinking for your photography final?” Bitty said eventually. “Did you have any ideas yet, or were you just looking at stuff still?”

“Well I’ve taken a lot of pictures of the team and around the Haus and stuff,” Jack said. “Like I said, I was figuring I could maybe do a ‘then and now’ thing matching up pictures I took when I was a teenager with pictures of you guys now.”

“That’s really cool!” Bitty said. “Let me know if I can help in any way.”

“Of course,” Jack said. “I’ll uh . . . let you know.”

* * *

Kent  
  
so I got a voicemail from Zimms the other day  
Oh?  
yeah, he uh, wanted to apologize  
said he had a lot of regrets about the way he’s treated me and he wants to try and be friends again  
well that’s great, honey!  
I guess  
Isn’t that what you wanted?  
I mean, yeah  
it was really nice to hear him finally admit he’s been shitty to me  
but like  
how do I just let him back in?  
I don’t even really know him anymore  
I don’t know what to say  
well  
you could ask him how his semester’s going  
I probably wouldn’t talk to him about NHL plans  
😑 I know  
Do you?  
Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson there  
But if you're curious, he called you because he's taking a photography class and started looking through old photos and found one of the two of you  
so, maybe see if you can work that in somehow?  
preferably without letting on that you know me  
idk, I don't know how he'd feel if he knew I talk to you all the time  
yeah you're probably right  
Thanks for the tip though  


* * *

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
....playoff beards.  12:18 PM - 7 Mar 2015  13  99 

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
If you're about to ask me if I'm growing one, the answer is how much hair do you really think this face can generate? Come on, now.  12:20 PM - 7 Mar 2015  3  103 

Kent  
  
it could be worse  
it could come in ginger like mine does  
your beard is ginger????  
omg  
I need pics immediately  
I’m sure you can find some online somewhere  
Or, you know, just keep watching once the aces get to the playoffs this season😊  


* * *

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
Jack:..i probably can't do much photography when i'm playing professionally Me: offseason, jack Lardo: plz be that one artsy hipster NHL bro  12:49 PM - 8 Mar 2015  58  374 

Kent  
  
Jack would *totally* be that one artsy hipster NHL bro  
I mean, he’s already way different from most NHL guys  
Instagram will be the only social media he figures out how to use  
It’ll all be artistic shots of ice and like  
pictures of geese  
omg  
He was outside taking pictures of the tree in front of the Haus for like, two hours yesterday  


* * *

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
Mister Kent Parson with another one for the highlight reel.  9:15 PM - 10 Mar 2015  2  50 

Kent  
  
congratulations!!  
you seriously make it look so easy  
all in the wrist  
*waggles eyebrows*  


* * *

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
I fit in a hockey bag.  4:41 PM - 19 Mar 2015  49  252 

Kent  
  
So are you saying that if you visited me at a game, I could kidnap you and take you home in my luggage?  
. . .  
All I’m saying is, you could *try*  
But if you did, they’d never find your body  


* * *

Eric Bittle  
@omgcheckplease   
I'm almost done with my second season of hockey at Samwell...  11:38 PM - 5 Apr 2015  1  73 

Kent  
  
**6 April** 06:18 PM  
Good luck!  
I’m rooting for you!  
**6 April** 11:05 PM  
hey, you did good  
Sorry it ended like that  
Let me know if you like, want to talk  
Mostly I just need to sleep  
But I’ll let you know  


* * *

Kent  
  
Did I just hear Sportscenter say you were out on medical leave?  
I don’t remember you getting hurt at all last game  
What did you do to yourself?  
Don’t worry about it  
It’s just, you know, my “thing” acting up  
Jack called me to congratulate me on my latest hatty  
That’s what set it off  
I’ll be fine soon enough  


Bitty chewed on his lip nervously. This was all his fault. He’d told Jack to start talking to Kent again. He knew that Kent got worse whenever he thought about Jack. What had he been thinking? Well, he’d been thinking that maybe if Jack started loving Kent again, maybe Kent would actually have a shot at getting better, is what he’d been thinking. But maybe Jack was too dense. Maybe Kent was too much of a martyr. Maybe this was just killing Kent faster. 

* * *

Kent  
  
**Today** 12:24 PM  
can I call u  
  
  
  
  
  


Bitty stared at his phone for quite a while. He hadn’t talked to Kent on the phone since Valentine’s Day. What was this about? Probably nothing good. Bitty’s heart was pounding as he texted back. 

Kent  
  
**Today** 12:24 PM  
can I call u  
  
**Today** 2:19 PM  
Of course.  
I’m free for the rest of the day.  


Immediately, his phone started ringing.

“Hey Kent, what’s up?” Bitty asked as he answered the phone.

“Now, don’t freak out,” Kent said. “But I’m in the hospital.”

“What?!?!??” Bitty said.

“I said don’t freak out!” Kent said, coughing.

“How could I not freak out that you’re in the hospital?”

“Just, just calm down, okay? I just need someone to talk to who knows what’s going on and why and I just really need you to not freak out right now,” Kent said.

Bitty took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to hold back the rising panic. “Okay. Calming down. Not freaking out. Why are you in the hospital?”

“They’re—” Kent coughed, low and rough. “They’re gonna make me get the surgery. I can’t keep playing with my lungs like this.”

“And I take it you don’t want that?”

Kent coughed again, followed by something that sounded like choking and spitting. “I don’t know. I don’t really want to die, and I want to keep playing hockey, but — I’d always hoped that I’d find someone, you know? That I could be happy someday. And if I get the surgery, I’ll never have that. I wouldn’t have any hope left. I . . . I don’t know if hockey would be enough to make up for that.”

“Oh, honey,” Bitty said, tears welling up in his eyes. “Isn’t there anything else?”

Kent paused in between coughs. “You know there isn’t,” he said softly. 

“You have to tell Jack,” Bitty said more firmly. “You have to tell him!”

“You know that won’t help,” Kent said. “It only helps if they love you back. Zimms has never loved me and never will.”

“You don’t know that!” Bitty said, more loudly. “It’s been years! Maybe he feels different now! You won’t know unless you try, Kent!” The tears were rolling down his cheeks now.

There was silence on the other end of the phone for several seconds. Well, silence punctuated by coughing. Eventually, Kent spoke, quiet and defeated. “He made it pretty clear last time that he never wanted to see me again. I doubt there’s enough time in the world that could change that.”

“Oh, honey . . .” Bitty said, unable to think of anything else. They sat in silence again for a few moments. “How long do you have before they have to do the surgery?” Bitty said at last.

“I’m not sure. A week or two at most. They want to do it now but . . . . . I just really don’t want to do it until there’s really no other option.”

“I understand,” Bitty said. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

“You too,” Kent said. “I’ll talk to you later, then?”

“Of course,” Bitty said. “Bye Kent,”

“Bye.” 

Bitty put his phone down on the bed and let the tears that had been gathering finally fall. He’d been keeping it together for Kent but now that he wasn’t able to overhear, the tears turned into a trickle and then to a flood, making Bitty grab for his box of tissues. He still tried to keep his sniffles quiet, but a sob or two definitely escaped. 

He was just finishing up a good cry and thinking about going downstairs to get a drink when there was a soft knock on his door. 

“Who is it?” Bitty asked, trying to keep his voice from wavering. 

The doorknob turned and Jack poked his head in. “Hey Bits, I was wondering—” he stopped abruptly, probably having noticed the tears on Bitty’s face. “Bits! What’s wrong?” he said, taking several quick steps into the room and then stopping as if unsure whether or not he was wanted.

“It’s. Um. Someone I care about is very sick,” Bitty finally settled on. “And there’s something he could do to make it better, but he just won’t.” Bitty’s eyes started to fill with tears again as he looked at Jack, the one who could solve all of Kent’s problems. If Kent would let him. If Jack would listen.

“It’s not - it’s not your dad, is it?” Jack said haltingly. 

“No, no, it’s not my dad,” Bitty said, wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand. “He’s a . . . a friend.” A friend. A friend who was hung up on Jack. Just like Bitty was hung up on Jack. Another hiccupping sob tore itself from his throat. With the way this all was going, Bitty half expected himself to start coughing flower petals any day now.

Jack walked over to the bed and sat down next to Bitty, putting his arm hesitantly around Bitty’s shoulder. It was too much for Bitty and he keeled over, burying his face against Jack’s thigh and just letting the sobs come out.

“He must mean a lot to you, this . . . friend,” Jack said. After a moment, Bitty could feel a tentative hand running through his hair. After a couple more minutes of gasping sobs, Bitty couldn’t take it anymore. He sat up and looked at Jack.

“Jack, it’s. It’s Kent.”

“What?” Jack said, confusion all over his face.

“My friend. It’s Kent. He’s in the hospital.”

“What?” Jack said again, with more urgency. “Bitty, what — what’s happened?”

Bitty swallowed. There was no going back after this. “He’s been sick for a while, but it’s gotten worse recently.”

“He’s sick? Why didn’t he tell me?”

Bitty smiled a sad little half smile, but couldn’t quite get himself to say it. 

“Bitty, what is it?”

“He — he’s — he. Um. Jack. He’s been sick for a long time. Ever since the draft. It’s. Jack, it’s —” Bitty was wringing his hands in his lap now, twisting them and squeezing his fingers, pinching his knuckles one by one. “He made me promise not to tell you,” he said in a small voice.

“Why wouldn’t he want you to tell me? Bitty, please, you _have_ to tell me now!” 

“It’s Hanahaki disease, Jack,” Bitty said all at once before he could psych himself out of it again. “He got it when you went into rehab and stopped talking to him. He’s still in love with you. He didn’t want me to tell you and he didn’t want to get the surgery so he’s just sitting in the hospital making himself miserable until management forces him to get the surgery, but he really, really doesn’t want that. Jack, I don’t know how you feel about him now, but it seems like y’all are getting along so much better these days and I —” Bitty looked away for a few seconds, staring at the wall, before turning his head back towards Jack. “If you love him at all, even a little bit, would you tell him?”

Jack, who has been looking more and more distraught, stood up immediately. “We’re going.”

“What?” Bitty said.

“He’s in Vegas, right?”

“Yeah, but — what —” Bitty said, tripping over his words.

“I’m buying us plane tickets and we’re flying out there right now.”

Bitty stood with his mouth open for a sec. “Me too?”

Jack looked at him as if he was missing something obvious. “Yes, you too. You obviously care about him and I know you; you’ll worry yourself sick about it. Just come with me and you’ll at least be able to see right away whether it works.”

Bitty stood frozen for a few more seconds before it all finally sunk in. “Oh Lord. Okay. Well. Let me change and throw some clothes in a bag and find my license and stuff.”

“Meet you downstairs in 10 minutes?” Jack said.

Bitty nodded, already shuffling through his dresser for something to wear on the plane and in Vegas and trying to find out where he’d put his damn wallet. “Yep, I’ll be down in a bit,” he said, feeling rather than seeing Jack rush out of the room.

  


Fifteen minutes later, Jack and Bitty were in Jack’s car on the way to the airport. Jack bought the tickets at the counter and they were on the next flight to Vegas. As they settled in for the 6 hour flight, it really sunk in what they were doing. 

“Oh Lord,” Bitty sighed to himself.

“What is it?” Jack asked, looking over.

“I just really hope this works,” Bitty said. “He’s been sick as long as I’ve known him.”

“Yeah, how _do_ you know Kent, anyways?” Jack said. “I didn’t realize you knew him well enough to talk to him on the phone, or for him to be asking you to keep secrets for him.”

Bitty sighed. “We kind of met . . . because of this, actually. At the Epikegster, after you two got into your shouting match, I found him out behind the Haus, coughing up flowers. We talked for quite a while. I followed him on Twitter and he followed me and we just . . . kept in touch, I guess. Started talking about things. We traded phone numbers at some point. I don’t know how, exactly, it happened. We just sort of started becoming friends, I guess.”

Sometime later, Jack asked, “So why did he ask you to keep it a secret from me?”

“What?” Bitty said, confused.

“His . . . illness. Why didn’t he want you to tell me?”

“Why do you think he was keeping it a secret from you?” Bitty said. “You’ve been talking lately, I know you have. He could have told you. So why didn’t he?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” Jack said eventually. 

Bitty sighed. “Sweetpea, he didn’t want you to feel sorry for him, to feel obligated to try and make a relationship work if you didn’t want it. He didn’t want to have false hope that it would work out.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Jack said. “But he doesn’t have to worry about it now.”

“Are you _sure_ , absolutely sure that this will work?” Bitty said.

“Well, not 100% sure,” Jack said. “But sure enough that I’m on a plane to Vegas.”

Bitty sighed, cringing internally. This was it then. There was no way he and Jack were ever going to be a thing. (Or him and Kent, his treacherous brain supplied.) “Well, I really hope it works, then,” Bitty said.

* * *

“Hey Kent,” Bitty said into the phone.

“Bitty? What’s up?” Kent said groggily, as though he’d just woken up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, hun, I’m fine,” Bitty said, feeling his heart pounding anxiously. “This is kind of weird but, um, I kind of got a surprise chance to see you?” he said, voice rising like a question.

“What??” Kent said, obviously not understanding. 

“Like. Um. I just. Couldn’t stop thinking about how awful you must be feeling and I know it’s probably not my place, but I just. I found a good deal on flights and—”

“Bits, what are you trying to say?” Kent said, sounding as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Well, I um. I may have gotten a plane ticket and be here in Vegas?” Bitty said. “I just. Really wanted to see you. If that’s okay. Lord, I didn’t think this through,” he added, half to himself.

“Are you saying you’re in Vegas? Now? You flew all the way out here to come visit me? Bitty, how much did that cost? You didn’t have to do that. Can I pay you back for the ticket?”

“Well, we, um, you don’t have to but I know you’ll insist, but we can talk about that later,” Bitty said. “But like, I figure I’m here, and I still want to see you, so I was hoping you could tell me what hospital you’re at?”

“Of course, of course!” Kent said, rattling off the hospital name and room number. “I’ll make sure to give your name to security too so they know to let you up.”

“Thank you Kent. I apologize again for this being so sudden I just - well, see you soon, I guess.”

Bitty let out a big sigh of air, sagging against Jack. 

“I’m so glad that worked,” Bitty said. “Let’s hope he doesn’t hate me for this.”

* * *

“Kent?” Bitty said as he got to the door of the room number they were given. He motioned for Jack to stay out of sight for a second.

“Bits?” Kent said, looking up. He immediately started to cough. He was laying in the hospital bed, playing something on his phone, but he set it down on the bedside table.

“Oh honey,” said Bitty, running up to him. “Can I hug you?”

“Of course you can. You can always hug me,” Kent said. Bitty wrapped him up in a tight embrace.

“How are you feeling?” Bitty said, holding Kent’s shoulders at arms length and looking at his face.

“Well, not great,” Kent said, gesturing around as if to say _look where we are_. “But I’m managing. Better now that you’re here.”

Bitty hugs him again to try and hide the tears that immediately spring up at that declaration. He tries to subtly wipe his eyes on Kent’s shoulder as they pull away.

“How’d you even get here, anyways?” Kent said. “I know you said you were looking at flights and found a cheap one but . . . I know you’re a college student. I know money’s pretty tight for you. Even a cheap flight seems like it would have been a little, well, out of your price range. Tell me you didn’t max out a credit card or something.”

“No, I didn’t, don’t worry,” Bitty said. Well, this was it. “I actually was going to talk to you about that. Um. When I was talking to you on the phone earlier, someone overheard me getting choked up about it and they asked what was wrong and well . . . things just kind of came out and they offered to buy me a plane ticket.”

“Someone?” Kent said sharply. “Who, like, one of your teammates? You didn’t tell them it was me, did you?”

“Yeah, one of my teammates,” Bitty said shakily, looking towards the door. “He’s . . . here, actually.”

Jack, thankfully, met his cue perfectly and stepped in the door right at that moment.

Kent looked up and his face crumpled in anger and anguish. “You told Jack??” he said, looking betrayed. He immediately started coughing and coughing and coughing, petals and stems and whole flowers with bloodstained edges spilling out over the covers.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Bitty said.

Jack rushed over and put his hand on Kent’s shoulder while he coughed. “Kent . . . “ he said softly. “I wanted to help.”

“Help?” Kent gasped between coughs. “Help? It gets worse every time I even think about you, how could you being here possibly help?”

Bitty slid off the bed, giving Jack room to sit down. Jack placed his hands carefully on either side of Kent’s face, stroking his hair gently until the coughs subsided. “Kenny,” Jack said again, gently. He kissed Kent’s glistening forehead so, so tenderly that it made Bitty’s heart clench. 

“Fuck you,” Kent said, taking big, heaving breaths. “You don’t get to waltz in here with your kisses and your ‘Kennys’ and think it’s going to fix everything just because we’re on speaking terms again.”

“I know that’s not enough, Kenny,” he said. “I know that I cut you out and I’ve treated you terribly and I am so, so sorry. Please, please can you forgive me?  I’m different now. I’m better than I was, and I know you are too. I want to do it right this time,” Jack said. 

The words were roaring in Bitty’s ears. He felt frozen, like in a dream, a dream where you’re trapped in ice, where everyone around you goes on living and you’re just invisible and screaming.

Kent looked up and looked Jack in the eyes. “You really mean that?” he asked Jack. “You really, truly, mean that?”

“I do. I promise you. I know I can’t account for everything, but I want to be with you. I want to be there for you. I want to work out things together. I’ve been so happy since having you back in my life and I just know it’s only going to keep getting better.”

A smile broke out on Kent’s face, a grin so pure and joyful it might as well have been the sun rising over choirs of angels. Kent leaned forward towards Jack and slowly, slowly closed his eyes —

And Bitty’s heart shattered into a million pieces. This was it. This was the end. Kent and Jack were together. Mission accomplished. And now Bitty would go back to being “friends” with both of them and he would never get any more of Jack’s sleepy smiles or Kent’s half-secret smirks. The breath seized in his lungs and he struggled to breathe. Oh God, he was having a panic attack. His throat felt like it was closing up. He struggled desperately to get some air in. He somehow caught a big lungful of air but it only made him choke and he started coughing violently. He’d tried not to ruin the moment but the moment was already ruined. He crouched down on the floor, trying to to get some fucking air in his lungs and breathe through the stupid coughs. Finally, the thing that felt like it was stuck in his throat dislodged itself and landed on the floor. 

It was a single rose petal.

His face was red and tears were running down his cheeks from the effort of coughing and trying to breathe and he knew he looked hideous, but he looked up through tear-full lashes at Jack and Kent and they were both staring at him with wide and frightened eyes.

“Bits?” Jack said. “Are you okay?”

Bitty tried to pull a shaky smile and surreptitiously sneak the flower petal into his hand, but before he could, Jack jumped off the bed onto the floor and plucked the petal from his shaking fingers.

“What is this?” Jack asked, voice low and accusatory. He stood up and passed it to Kent, who looked up, eyes going from surprise-wide to knowledge-narrow in an instant. 

Bitty buried his head back into his knees in mortification.

“Bits,” Kent said. Jack stood up and pulled Bitty to his feet, sitting him down on the hospital bed between him and Kent. The color was back in Kent’s face and his breathing seemed clear. “We just solved mine, we’re not letting yours go.”

Bitty hung his head, trying to avoid looking at either of them.

“Come on,” Jack said, in his gentle Jack voice that Bitty loved so much. “Please tell us.”

Bitty shook his head, but knew that he couldn’t hold out for long.

“Eric,” Kent said, reaching out and grabbing Bitty’s arm. 

Bitty drew in a deep, shaking breath. They’d seen it happen. He couldn't deny it. There would be no hiding it like Kent had. Even if they only cared for him as friends, they weren’t going to stop asking about it. 

“It’s . . . “ he said eventually. “I think it’s both of you.” 

He let the silence hang in the air for a few awkward seconds before he just started rambling uncontrollably. 

“I just. I already had a crush on Jack and we’ve been getting closer lately but like, ever since I started talking to Kent for real, I think I fell a little bit more in love with you every day and I just —” Bitty broke off as Kent swept him into a giant hug, with Jack sandwiching him in from behind.

After a while, Kent said, “I don’t know how Jack feels, but I started thinking about you as more than a friend a long time ago.”

Bitty looked up, surprised.

“Me too,” Jack said from behind him.

“What?” Bitty mumbled, trying to extract himself enough to turn and look at Jack, but Kent wouldn’t let him go.

“This is all super new, so new it hasn’t even really started yet,” Kent said. “But it’s pretty clear that Jack and I both care about you, and you clearly care about both of us, so much so that you were willing to forego your own feelings to get us together if it meant that I’d be better, so even if it’s not exactly usual, I think we can make it work, okay?” 

“Me too,” Jack said, pressing a kiss to Bitty’s temple.

A desperate gasping sob shuddered through Bitty.

“Y’all really mean that?” Bitty said softly.

“We really mean it,” Kent said.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it! Honestly, the more I started working on it the more it started getting away from me. If I'd had another month it probably would have another 5k-10k words and lots more angsty pining. And more fluff too, tbh; pretty sure there's going to be some follow-up super soft scenes of them all being together and being happy and domestic; I just ran completely out of time and didn't have the wherewithal to add anything to the main fic itself.
> 
> Anyways, this is the first fic exchange I've ever done and I had lots of fun! Hopefully it's everything you were hoping for. I had a ton of fun writing it.


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